


my fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in

by avosettas



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Breeding, Dusttale Sans (Undertale), Dusttale Sans/Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Established Relationship, Horrortale Sans (Undertale), M/M, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex, horror's awful food based dirty talk., literally hate taggjng all the ecto stuff so thats a catch all now.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28621770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/pseuds/avosettas
Summary: “thought i was needy before,” Horror says with a bit of a laugh, though he leans down to press a kiss to Dust’s collarbone before slowly moving to rest on his knees. “told you though, i want a taste first, lambchop.”
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	my fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zephyred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephyred/gifts).



> i probably forgot tags again... also i'm posting this from the breakroom at work, help. 
> 
> hope you like, zephyred! first time writing this pairing, even though i love it... it devolved into banter real quick.

Dust had always been rather enamored with Horror’s raw strength. Despite his run-in with starvation, Horror has always been the stronger of the two of them, with a larger frame and thicker bones, though they were rather fragile. Dust was only a fraction of his size, though he had his mate beat when it came to the amount of raw magic either of them possessed. 

Of course, usually Horror’s strength wasn’t being used on him. Usually, Dust watched him swing his axe with a single hand on the handle, or laughed as he easily lifted Killer from the couch in order to steal his spot as they all watched television. 

Not today. Dust is tense with embarrassment now, cradled tightly against Horror’s chest as the other carries him less like a sack of potatoes and more like a fucking damsel in distress. Any of the others could see them, though it’s likely if they did, they would stay away. 

He’s not quite sure if Horror’s in heat or if his magic has spiked as he recovers - he runs too warm himself to really tell. But it’s very obvious that the other was feeling desperate and maybe even slightly feral, hardly responding to Dust’s worried questions except with soft growls and growing purrs. 

Dust _could_ check their calendar, where Horror’s marked off the beginning of his next heat cycle, but, of course, it’s in their bedroom. Presumably, they’re headed there now, but it doesn’t quite _help_. Even if it did, it might not explain anything - near-starvation followed by finally having access to food has made Horror’s magic, and therefore his heats, rather unpredictable, so for all Dust knows his mate is simply in the mood to pound him into the mattress. 

Which he isn’t arguing with, not at all. It’s just that he’s still a bit of a scientist at heart, and explanations are kind of his thing. 

Horror kicks their door open recklessly, and Dust marvels that it doesn’t shatter, though his amazement fades quickly as he’s dropped onto his feet and pushed back against the wall beside the door frame. The calendar is on the other side of the door frame now, out of his sight, _great_. 

So instead he settles for his very last resort.

“you okay?” Horror’s eye light focuses on him slowly. It’s very hazy, and now that Dust has his feet on the floor, he can see the soft, red glow of Horror’s ecto-body. It starts just below his ribs, and continues down. 

Horror presses into him instead of answering immediately, and the bulge amongst that glow is stupidly obvious now. “wanna fuck you,” he says slowly, pushing harder against Dust. 

Dust gasps a bit - he hasn’t manifested anything yet, but his own magic is _stupidly_ sensitive to this sort of thing, coalescing in his pelvis at the slightest touches. Horror’s cock rubs right against that soft cloud, caging him between his mate and the wall behind him. “y-you in heat?” Dust prods, and his voice pitches up embarrassingly higher as Horror slowly ruts against him. 

Horror blinks slowly, like a cat that got the cream, before answering, “maybe… or maybe i just wanna fuck you… fill you up… a lot, maybe with… a soulling?” 

His hand is gentle at Dust’s ilium, but between his slow rutting and the friction of the shorts between Dust’s bones and Horror’s fingers, it _burns_. “‘t least undress me, then,” he gasps, having given up the mental challenge of figuring out Horror’s motivations. 

It isn’t as if they haven’t talked about kids, anyway - with the unpredictability in their heats caused by Dust’s scarily high magic and LV, and Horror’s frighteningly low magic mixed with his own LV, it’s been a necessity to make a decision before any… _surprises_ could happen. They haven’t had any so far, and while it doesn’t _really_ matter to Dust, he knows it matters to Horror. 

(He’s always been a pushover when it comes to Horror; he’d never thought about kids before, too busy being entangled in the whims of a maniacal demon pretending to be one. Yet as soon as Horror had confessed that he’d like to have a family, Dust had agreed.) 

So even as Horror slowly licks up Dust’s vertebrae, paying careful attention to each and every spinous process, the very hazy conclusion Dust comes to is that, really, it could be heat, or Horror could just be really, really horny. 

But really, it doesn’t matter, not when Horror’s tongue is working its way against his bones softly, his hands having moved to the wall on either side of Dust at his smaller mate’s pained noises from the texture of his shorts. 

“so cute,” Horror murmurs against his neck, fangs nicking Dust’s bones. “you’re already… real squirmy.” His laugh makes Dust’s stomach feel all fuzzy, despite the teasing. “gonna fuck you over and over… you’ll really be squirming then.” 

“are you gonna put your dick in me or not?” Dust hisses, though it sounds more like a wheeze. Stupid overactive, oversensitive magic. 

“little bit,” Horror replies. “you know i like to get a _taste_ first…” 

There’s a bit of a tearing sound as Dust’s shorts are shimmied down his hips, because of Horror’s damn claws, and because he’s so eager. Dust doesn’t much care - the cool air that hits him as his pelvis is bared is fucking wonderful, even if he barely has a chance to enjoy it before Horror is lifting him off his feet. 

His shorts fall into a puddle on the floor, and he scrambles for balance, ending up clutching at Horror’s shoulder and the door frame beside him. Horror laughs again, that deep rumbling sound, before putting Dust back down. “wanted to get your shorts off… what’cha gonna make for me, huh, lambchop?” His thumb skirts the edge of Dust’s unformed magic as he traces it up and down his mate’s iliac crest. “probably gonna need a _muffin_ if y’want me to fill you up, yeah?” 

Dust groans a little at Horror’s stupid food-based puns, although he can’t deny that he now has a Pavlovian reaction to the word “lambchop” that simply makes him think of his mate. Calling his pussy a “muffin” is the fucking limit, though. “just call it what it is,” he grunts, gasping a bit before continuing when Horror decides that _right now_ , as he’s speaking, is the perfect time to dip his claws into the misty purple magic in his pelvis. “fuck - just call it a cunt, horror.” 

“mm, nah,” Horror mumbles, removing his hand so Dust can manipulate the magic into something more solid. His eyelight is tiny as he watches Dust’s ecto-body snap into place, purple translucent flesh filling in from the bottom of his ribcage to his femurs, though most of it is still hidden beneath his hoodie and shirt. “‘s not a very nice word for it.” 

Dust just rolls his eyes, panting as he lets Horror push his hoodie down to his elbows and then dropping it to the floor with his shorts. The shirt remains, though Horror pushes it up a bit as his left hand reaches up to feel at the ribs Dust has left exposed. His other hand goes back to Dust’s hips, now protected slightly from the stimulation of Horror’s claws. 

Horror purrs as he continues, content to have Dust pressed against the wall like this, squirming at the slightest touches. “hurry up,” he snaps as Horror continues touching him too softly to actually _do_ anything. 

“thought i was needy before,” Horror says with a bit of a laugh, though he leans down to press a kiss to Dust’s collarbone before slowly moving to rest on his knees. “told you though, i want a taste first, lambchop.” 

Dust groans wordlessly in frustration, transitioning to a yelp when Horror throws one of his legs over his shoulder. His hands brace himself against the wall, though Horror still has one hand on the small of his back, and one on his raised thigh. The toes of his other foot just barely reach the floor. “jus’ relax,” Horror tells him, warm breath hitting Dust’s pussy as he speaks. 

Dust shivers, very much not relaxed in his precarious position. “i got’cha,” Horror assures him, pressing his teeth to the ecto-flesh of Dust’s thigh. 

Dust just nods jerkily. “y-yeah. come on, horror…” 

“you’ll be _cumming_ on me soon enough, lambchop,” Horror promises darkly, before finally leaning forward. He’s always been rather overenthusiastic when it comes to oral, and Dust certainly isn’t complaining when Horror’s tongue immediately goes to his entrance, lapping up the slick that’s accumulated there. His nasal ridge bumps Dust’s clit every time he moves, and it makes Dust jolt. 

Horror usually doesn’t focus on his clit at all when they fuck - he’s too sensitive for it, generally - but today he must be in some sort of mood because he drags his tongue up from Dust’s entrance, presses back his clitoral hood, and slowly licks directly onto his clit. It makes Dust twitch, claws scrabbling for purchase on the wall behind him, but Horror only rumbles with satisfaction. 

The noises he’s making are incoherent and embarrassing, but despite the sensitivity everything feels _so good_. Horror leaves his clit alone again after a few long moments, going back down to his entrance again and thrusting his tongue inside with little preamble. 

Horror eats Dust out like he eats his meals, messy and eager and noisy. He presses Dust closer to his face by the small of his back, and then, without breaking his negligibly-existent rhythm, he drags Dust’s other leg over his shoulder. Dust arches, pushing Horror’s tongue further into him, the wall scraping against his spine. He hardly even considers the fact that he’s no longer touching the floor. 

“h-horror,” Dust wheezes, a little whiny as the other slows a bit to pull himself away. He doesn’t completely retract his tongue, using long, slow licks to stimulate his mate’s slit. He finally looks up when Dust whimpers his name once more, his eyelight so completely focused on his mate. 

“you need somethin’?” Horror mumbles, now having pulled away far enough that his voice rumbles against Dust’s pussy, but doesn’t stimulate him much else. 

“yeah,” Dust huffs. “thought i, hn, asked you to put your dick in me.” 

“told you,” Horror says, hooking an arm around Dust’s right leg to play his fingers over Dust’s clit. “wanna a taste first.” He’s gentle as he presses a single finger down, rubbing in slow, maddening circles that make Dust throw his head back hard enough to slam against the wall. “...want’cha to cum on my tongue before y’cum on my cock.” 

Dust whines again, squeezing his legs around Horror’s skull best he can, though it’s hard with the other’s arm hooked over one of them. Horror’s pace is agonizingly gentle, though Dust knows he’d be grateful for it if he were more clear-headed. He’s kept up the stupidly slow circles, and now he leans back in to slide his tongue around Dust’s slick folds. 

Dust’s climax is a hard, sudden thing - he arches _hard_ between Horror and the wall with a thump and some clacking, moaning as his orgasm hits him with the force of a train. Horror stops soon after, watching his mate closely as he switches to just softly licking his outer lips to lessen the chance of painful overstimulation. 

He only pulls away when Dust’s panting calms to his usual wheezing huffs, giving some final nuzzles to the thighs beside his skull before standing, letting Dust’s legs fall to rest on his hips. 

Horror is the only thing keeping Dust upright now, pressing him into the wall by his upper back as he rests his calves on Horror’s ilium. His bones rattle slightly with the force of Horror’s purr, and he lets himself relax completely in his mate’s strong grip. 

It’s hard to focus - always is, after an orgasm - so Dust is grateful for the pause Horror takes to just nuzzle his neck and thumb at his hips. 

“y’okay?” Horror asks, face buried in Dust’s shoulder. Dust can just see the glow of his eyelight in his peripheral vision. 

“need a minute,” Dust replies, because the burning feeling of oversensitivity is _not_ one of his kinks. 

Horror hums in response, one of his hands moving from Dust’s hip to his belly, heaving with each unneeded breath he takes. “...gonna look so good with a soulling in there, lambchop. all nice and full… and i’ll keep you full, too.” He nuzzles into Dust’s neck now, still purring happily. “if y’got a soulling in you, you’re gonna need to eat lots… so i’ll get you lots of nice meals…” 

Dust makes a sound that could be a hum, if he wasn’t struggling to catch his breath. Laying around all day, heavy with a child, isn’t exactly his idea of a party - he likes to be active, doing things. But the idea of Horror taking care of him all through it? 

Now, that’s his idea of a good time. The sound warbles off into a purr, and Horror matches it by quieting his own slightly.

Horror seems to be getting needy, once again humping Dust against the wall, and Dust curls his fingers into his shirt. “hurry up,” he groans. “gonna be real annoyed if you don’t make good on your promises.” 

“thought i’d eaten out all of your grumpiness,” Horror replies with amusement, supporting Dust by his rump with one hand as he uses the other to push his shorts down enough to free his cock, the bright red glow of it drawing Dust’s eyes. He’s hard, but Dust doesn’t have much time to look or touch. 

He shifts his hands so they grip Dust’s hips bruisingly hard, holding him against the wall once again, and starts trying to press in. Without his hand steadying him, it takes a few tries, Horror rutting against him aimlessly before his dick finally catches. 

“warm,” he mumbles against Dust’s neck, hands squeezing the soft magical flesh of his mate’s hips. Dust whines, wordlessly pleading for Horror to _move_. 

There’s a soft press of teeth to his neck, and then Dust’s incoherent prayers are finally answered. 

Horror’s movement is lacking a consistent pace, but it tends to be fast and hard. It feels as if he’s barely pulling out before thrusting back in, using his entire weight to keep Dust pressed into the wall. It’s good, so good, every inward thrust knocking into some part of the sensitive magic he’s formed. 

“love you,” Horror mumbles. “gonna be so good to you, keep you nice and heavy with good food while the soulling grows…” It turns incoherent, his thrusts becoming erratic. 

“love y’too,” Dust slurs, clenching unconsciously around Horror. He’s so warm and everything is sharp-edged except for Horror’s cock inside him, Horror’s hands on his hips, Horror softening everything as he holds Dust to the wall.

Horror thrusts in deeply one final time, burying his fangs into Dust’s shoulder as he does so. Just the feeling of him cumming inside Dust sets off his sensitive false nerves. He tries to curl around Horror, gasping as hot cum spurts into him. It doesn’t work, legs still splayed as they are around Horror’s waist. 

Horror’s purr is right against his ear, low and soft, and then his hand shifts from Dust’s hip to his belly. It’s too soon to see if a soulling has formed, Dust remembers that vaguely from when he used to work in the labs, but Horror spreads his fingers out on his mate’s belly anyway. 

“already real full,” he says, pressing gently, and Dust can’t help the weak, full-body twitch he gives at that. 

“y’were pent up,” he rasps, more statement than question as Horror pulls out, cradling him against his chest once more. His only response is a soft warble in Horror’s purr as the larger skeleton lays him on the bed.

“jus’ sleep,” Horror replies finally, still touching his slightly distended stomach softly. Dust doesn’t need to be asked twice; he’s never been one to shower right after sex, anyway. 

He falls asleep full and taken care of, just as Horror promised.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter @avosettas


End file.
